


entertain us (we're stupid and contagious)

by orphan_account



Series: Stupid and Contagious [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anxiety, Depression, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Overdose, School, Selling Alcohol To A Minor, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes, Underage Drinking, essentially, god this is just a mess, okay yeah, stiles and derek are broken boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Stiles is a little bit broken, Derek is a little bit broken and somehow, they make it through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	entertain us (we're stupid and contagious)

**Author's Note:**

> So, MAJOR warnings for attempted suicides (2) via window jumping and drug overdose. Another warning for anxiety, mainly relating to school but could be seen as a general anxiety. Another warning for sexual acts with a minor (Stiles is sixteen) and selling alcohol to a minor. Um, I think that's about it?

1\. 

It's a Thursday, the same Thursday Claudia Stilinski passed away six years prior, and Stiles doesn't want to go to school. 

Sixteen years old and acing all his classes, the day acts as a dampener on every achievement he ever made in her name. 

His alarm blares at six, he rolls out of bed at seven. 

He doesn't go to school and instead flinches at the sound of the front door closing, hands clammy. His stomach rolls as he stares at the kitchen, his mother's favourite room. 

He throws up in the sink. 

2\. 

The next day, he wakes up to silence. 

Five in the morning, sun barely breaking the clouds. 

He shuts off his alarm and goes back to sleep. 

3\. 

John Stilinski let's his son have his time. Notes the vacant look, the bleached sink. He lets him have the entire week, fends off Scott and Allison. 

A year later, he'll realize it's the worst mistake he ever made. 

4\. 

Saturday morning, Stiles wakes to bright sunlight streaming through his window, the sun setting. 

He checks his clock twice, blinks blearily, six in the evening. 

He lies back down and thinks, this is safe. This is good. 

5\. 

Monday rolls around and he fakes the flu. 

Doesn't acknowledge the worried look in his father's eyes. Doesn't acknowledge the sick feeling in his stomach. 

Doesn't acknowledge the mantra of safe, safe, safe. 

6\. 

Stars shine out bright when Stiles eats breakfast. 

The sight of sun hurts when it rises at six, reminds Stiles that it's a brand new day. 

7\. 

Scott drops by and Stiles finds himself jittery. A slipping, sliding slope of nausea fills his mind and he snaps a curt, "I'll be in tomorrow, promise." 

The moment the words burn his tongue he makes a plan to stay at home the next day. 

8\. 

Weeks later and the school calls every day, asks "Where is Mr. Stilinski?" And "Why hasn't he been in?" 

His Dad is even worse. Grabs a leg, pulls him right from bed. Gives him a no-nonsense look and says, "I'm driving you to school."

Stiles begs and begs, words garbled and choked. His head pounds and he wonders, briefly, when the last time he got out of bed was. 

He thinks, maybe he'll die. Safe, safe, safe. 

8\. 

His Dad does so, eyes him carefully and bundles him into the cruiser. 

Stiles feels sick. Guilty. It bubbles up, quick and nasty. Tears and begging and his Dad yells, "No." and Stiles thinks maybe, just maybe, it won't be so bad. 

9.  
He almost throws up on Scott. His hands shake, just barely. 

His chest tightens. Tighter, tighter, tighter. 

Nobody notices and Stiles realizes it's barely seen by anybody. His tremors look like breaths, his breaths look normal, not betraying the panic. His thoughts are invisible; safe, safe, safe. 

This is not safe, he thinks, as he looks around. 

Loud yelling and cliques and only one friend. Just one. In a sea of people, Stiles feels alone. 

10\. 

Stiles goes home during lunch and feels dizzy as he walks, blod rushing in his ears. The world looks on, it feels like. And he hunches, walks faster, and hopes for thick comforters and quiet. 

He falls asleep to the sound of a ringing phone and quick breaths.

11\. 

Three months pass and suddenly it's Summer vacation. 

Stiles feels a pressure, a sick guilt, let up. Just barely. 

He breathes, and for once, doesn't feel panic. 

12.

Scott drifts. From Stiles, from safe, safe, safe. 

Stiles cries until his head pounds and his eyes are red for days. Can't get the tightness out of his chest, no matter how hard he sobs into a pillow. 

13\. 

Stiles doesn't eat the day he gets a text from Scott, "Why don't you come to school?" And he tastes sadness in the heartburn. Tastes tears and sadness when he swallows. 

He feels guilt, guilt, guilt. Sees it when his Dad comes home from work, smells it in phantom meals being coooked in the kitchen by a woman that couldn't help but leave. 

14\. 

Stiles cries and cries until his throat is sore and his eyes itch. He cries some more. 

The days until September haunt him and he feels panic bubble in his chest. 

15.

He discovers alcohol the third week of summer vacation. 

It tastes bitter, a satisfying burn. The whiskey leaves a slow pain on his lips and he drinks until he's laughing at nothing. 

He drinks everything in the cabinet, notes the way the world is brighter than it has been in months, until he can't. 

His Dad finds him on the kitchen floor, sobbing into his hands. 

When he takes them into his own, Stiles notes how pale he's gotten. His hands against his Dad's, the differences are stark and it feels a bit like a short-coming. 

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

16\. 

Stiles wakes up at two in the afternoon, bones aching more than his soul. 

17\. 

He drinks more. Can't fathom the bitter taste, the way he talks to himself. The way school feels a little more manageable. 

He drinks until he can't anymore. 

18\. 

His Dad cuts him off the second month of summer vacation, and Stiels screams. 

Pushes and pulls and anger, restless rage. It clouds him. He doesn't know he's crying, slurring words and feeling so empty, until his father pulls him close. 

Whispers, "You're safe." 

19.

He smiles encouragingly when Stiles throws out the bottles, he smiles encouragingly when Stiles eats, he smiles encouragingly while Stiles learns to lie, better and better. 

He isn't there when Stiles scrapes up money and buys as much alcohol as he can from college students and loner adults. He isn't there when Stiles stashes it under his Mom's things. 

He isn't there when Stiles meets Derek.

20.

Derek who doesn't ask questions. Derek who lives in the woods. Derek who doesn't smile knowingly and ask, "Aren't you the Sheriff's kid?"

Derek who looks just as empty as Stiles. 

21\. 

Stiles drinks at Derek's doorstep. Stiles cries at Derek's doorstep. Stiles smiles, hollow and cracked, at Derek's doorstep. 

Stiles thinks, when Derek hands over a bottle of vodka and doesn't judge, simply takes the ten dollars Stiles hands over, he thinks; safe, safe, safe. 

21\. 

Stiles cries himself sick, tired of crying, crying, crying. 

He doesn't cry the night before school starts again. 

22\. 

He signs in late and goes to one class. Avoids Scott. Scott who doesn't look at him anymore, Scott who looks empty.

He skips the rest of school, shakes when he walks to Derek's house. 

22\. 

He kisses him first. Clumsy and forlorn, hopes against hope. Feels a little less lonely, a lot more guilty. 

He almost cries when Derek kisses back, crowds him against a wall and makes him feel. 

23\. 

He feels. 

He feels heavy hands and stubble. He feels denim against denim and expensive leather beneath his fingers. He feels hot puffs of air against his skin. 

He feels alive, if only for a moment.

24\. 

His Dad eyes the hickeys Derek leaves on Stiles neck, between thick tendons and pumping arteries, but doesn't ask. 

Stiles wonders when he became a string of numbers; attendance and grades more than he's worth.

25\. 

Stiles doesn't go in for he entire term, feels the weight of it more and more. 

26\. 

They use words like'therapy' sometimes even 'institutionalize' and Stiles drifts. 

27\. 

Derek bargains spirits and stiff drinks for kisses and smiles, looks broken when he says, "For me?" 

And Stiles breaks with him. Cracked lips and sunken eyes, stomach rolling. 

28\. 

Stiles talks and talks and talks. To no one, whispers to himself. 

Safe, safe, safe. 

His room is no longer safe; a litany of reminders of failures and broken promises. 

He laughs against bile and sticky, sweet, cheap beer. Bought with a blowjob and a hollow grin. 

29\. 

Derek is a constant. Stiles drifts. 

Never too far, never too close. 

And feels all the lonelier for it. 

30\. 

It's Christmas and Stiles doesnt leave his room. Burns school books and panic rises when he looks at them; homework he never turned in, pens he never used. 

It crushes him and he cries as he opens the window and sits. Just, sits. 

Mind blank and unsure. He sits and watches the moon. 

"Merry Christmas." He whispers and jumps. 

30\. 

He spends New Years in crutches. A bulky cast he wears like shame. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

It was never high enough, never fast enough. But he hadn't cared. A rediculous, embarrassing child. 

His Dad looks at him like he doesn't know him anymore. 

31\. 

He finds Derek surrounded by ten letters. Nine for his family and one for Stiles. He finds him surrounded by a charred home, ghosts of a dead family. He finds him, dying and alone. 

32\. 

Stiles reads the letters at Derek's bedside. His tears make the words run together. 

The only words that stand out don't make any sense. 

"Stiles, I love you." 

33\. 

Stiles drools on his arm while he sleeps, waits, waits, waits. 

The beeping sounds an awful lot like safe, safe, safe. 

34\. 

His Dad yells and breaks things, throws bottles and kicks the couch. 

Stiles stands still, waits for it to turn on him. For the rage to crash over him, too. 

It never does. 

35.

When Derek wakes up Stiles doesn't so much cry as feel a tsunami wave behind his eyes. 

36\. 

January rolls around quick and fast and Stiles asks, "Why?" 

Derek looks back, eyes bright, and asks in return, "Why?" 

Stiles doesn't have an answer. Neither does Derek. 

37\. 

It's Thursday again, one year since last. 

Stiles doesn't go to school, doesn't leave his bed. Stays curled up in strong arms and a mantra of safe, safe, safe. Hoping that he can freeze the moment, live in it forever, cries with the need of it. 

Derek hushes him quietly, reaches over, and presses a bottle to Stiles chapped lips. He chases away the bitter taste with a sweet kiss. 

38\. 

Stiles lays awake, breath ragged, and wonders when it all got so fucked up. 

When school felt like a death sentence and he wrapped himself tight in comforters and body heat, it was hard to tell. 

39\. 

Derek cried into Stiles' buzzcut, asked, "Why? Why? Why?" and Stiles couldn't find an answer. 

40.

Stiles woke up, bright and early, and felt hollow. Miles away from the body lying beside his. 

Seventeen years old, failing his classes and every achievement he made in Claudia Stilinski's name tarnished by a sick feeling in his stomach and a riot in his mind. 

He rolled over, pressed closer, tried to chase away all thoughts. 

41\. 

"Why?" Derek asked, again, in the darkness. 

Impossible quietness filled the space between him and Stiles, made him seem a world away. 

Stiles drank. 

42\. 

"Because I woke up one morning and realized everything I am, everything I was, had been pushed out. By terror and tears and all it left- all it left was the most bleak of feelings. That's why."

**Author's Note:**

> If you're still reading, wow, you deserve a medal. 
> 
> Anyway, you can always reach me on tumblr as queerestalpha if you ever gotta cry to me or smth.


End file.
